


Back Up

by mneiai



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But They'll Fix That, M/M, The Loa Effed Up, Time Travel, fixit fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:43:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: The Loa use Tyrathan to fix something they broke, he doesn't really mind.





	Back Up

**Author's Note:**

> Per usual, completely unbeta'd. 
> 
> I wrote this on my phone and then rewrote it to take out a bunch of characters so hoping I didn't miss anything weird.

When the world stopped spinning, Tyrathan was in a forest that he at least recognized. He groaned, sore body creaking as he sat up and tried to decide what had just happened.

He’d been out hunting demons when something, some energy, had grabbed hold of him. It was blue enough for him to assume an arcane source, but he wasn't good enough with magic to really tell. He'd been swept away and deposited...here. In what could only be the Broken Isles.

With another

A tauren. Probably not thrilled to see a human there with him.

He licked his lips, deciding to draw attention to himself so he could control how he was noticed. “Do know what that was?”

The tauren’s head turned towards him and Tyrathan realized he actually recognized him--it was the leader of the Horde’s tauren, Baine. He frowned, knowing Baine shouldn’t have been anywhere near him before the light hit.

Baine frowned.

“No,” Baine replied. “Though the feel of the magic reminded me of troll magic.” He glanced around, as if expecting a troll to be nearby. “Of the spirits they worship.”

Tyrathan pressed a hand to his stomach, over the scar he’d received from the Mogu’s spear, remembering his own experience with Loa magic. “Why would the Loa send us here?”

Baine started at that, looking around them again and nodding as if confirming his own thoughts. “Where very close to the Broken Shore, where a major battle against the Legion took place. Perhaps there is something there we are supposed to find?”

Standing, Tyrathan glanced at the sky, the trees around them, then turned in the direction of the Shore. “As good an answer as any.”

“Before we set out, perhaps you could give me your name, human?”

“Tyrathan Khort,” he added, a bittersweet smile flashing across his face. “But I’d hazard a guess that you hadn’t heard of me.”

The expression on Baine’s face made that clear and Tyrathan wondered, not for the first time, how different his interactions with members of the Horde would have been if he’d allowed himself to visit Vol’jin at some point.

As they walked, noise began to reach them, the noise of battle. They stopped, approaching more carefully, exchanging confused looks.

“This is...This is the actual battle,” Baine whispered, in shock. “It’s not just another fight--something on this scale couldn't be happening without our knowledge.”

“...That does make sense.”

“Time travel?” he grimaced. “That never ends well. Just being here could hurt the timeline that we know.” 

“Why would anything bring us here? Now?”

Baine frowned, deep in thought. “There must be a reason it’s the two of us. What do we have in common?”

Tyrathan blinked, then looked back at the battle. “Where was Vol’jin?”

“What? He...he’s over there,” Baine motioned. “This is...early enough yet that he hasn’t been wounded. But why bring him up?” He glanced towards the Alliance side, trying to make out Varian Wrynne in the distance. “Shouldn’t you be worried about your king?”

“Why would the Loa send us back? They barely care about humans. And why would they send US back, in particular?” Tyrathan was starting at the area Baine indicated. “Except if they wanted us to save Vol’jin.”

Turning to face Tyrathan fully, Baine studied him. “You knew Vol’jin?” he asked, voice skeptical.

Tyrathan stood a little straighter, meeting Baine’s eyes. “I did.”

“Enough that you’d ignore your own king’s death to save the Horde’s Warchief?”

“...Yes.”

Baine let out a huffing breath, shoulders sagging. “We can’t save him. No matter how much we might want to. The things it could do to the timeline….”

“That’s the only reason the Loa would have to send us back. They must have sent you because you’d know what was going on, me because I wasn't here--if I go out there, there’s no risk of running into myself.”

Tyrathan was already double checking his bow and quiver, pulling out an arrow that, if it flew true, might take out the demon that would have given Vol’jin a killing blow.

“We can't do this, the Loa are not infallible,” Baine argued.

“No, but I don't know how they could make the world a worse place.”

And then he was off, running in the direction that Baine had indicated earlier, ignoring the call for him to stop. It was easy enough to move along the edges of the fight,no one was paying attention to yet another fighter on the field. And then he saw Vol’jin, unmistakable in the way he moved.

Tyrathan drew his bow, aiming as carefully as he ever did, tracking the demons around Vol’jin. And in the moment before he would have been hit from behind, just as the stories had told it, Tyrathan’s arrow went straight into the demon’s eye, lodging deep enough to kill.

Vol’jin saw the arrow and whipped around, his eyes wide, but Tyrathan had already retreated out of sight.

“That was a foolish thing to do,” Baine insisted when Tyrathan rejoined him.

“Well, we'll be the only ones to know that. Us and the Loa.”

As if called, the magic started collecting around them again. Tyrathan closed his eyes against the sudden brightness and by the time he reopened them, he was back to where he had been, alone. 

It took him two days to get back to civilization, another two to hear Vol’jin’s name slip from someone's lips. 

He was alive. It had actually worked. 

Baine found him a week later, as Tyrathan was just returning to Trueshot Lodge. “Were you lying in wait for me the whole time I was out. “

Baine crossed his arms and glared. “You're really going to risk the world to save his life and then go back to ignoring him?”

Tyrathan sighed. “How am I supposed to explain my presence there?”

“He assumed you were fighting with the Alliance and slipped away to check on him. That the Loa were watching over him and drew you at just the right time. “

“Well… he's not entirely wrong. “

Baine snorted. “I have a mage with me, I'm taking you to Ogrimmar.”

“What?! I didn't agree to go anywhere, especially not there. “

“Other people won't know you saved the Horde from Sylvanas’ rule, but he'll probably reveal you saved his life. Again. “

“And then the Alliance will label me a traitor and I'll never be able to step foot in one of their cities without hiding myself. “

“Would it really be such a loss? If you work so well with Vol’jin, I can't imagine you fit in with most of the Alliance.”

Tyrathan winced, though he knew it wasn’t meant as an insult. Truth be told, since returning from Pandaria, he’d felt adrift. He’d been lost there, too, but being lost with someone else sharing that journey had been something else. Back home, he’d realized everything he’d suspected about his family and their view of him was true, and while he’d always care for them, they were better off without a killer there.

“Just come for a visit. We’ll keep it quiet. If you decide to leave, I’ll make sure you can return here without a problem.”

He really couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to deny that and soon found himself following Baine to a portal and into a private room in Ogrimmar. He only had to wait a few minutes before Vol’jin appeared in the doorway, in full armor and makeup like Tyrathan had never actually gotten to see in Pandaria.

“Ya be a sight for sore eyes.” Vol’jin strode forward, not stopping until he was right in front of Tyrathan, staring down at him.

Giving a slight smile, Tyrathan closed the distance between them, setting a hand on Vol’jin’s shoulder. He still remembered the news of Vol’jin’s death, the funeral, the finality of the pyre. No matter what was ruined by his intervention, he couldn’t help but think it would be worth it.


End file.
